


Gauntlet, Take Two

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [49]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-03 19:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15825735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “I forgot to say happy birthday, didn’t I?” Jared asks.“I mean, you gave me presents, so,” Bryce says. “I was pretty sure you didn’t forget it was my birthday?”Jared totally forgot tosayhappy birthday, though.“I am a human disaster,” Jared says. “Happy birthday.”





	Gauntlet, Take Two

One of the many blessings of Elaine Marcus is that when Bryce’s birthday looms large, Jared doesn’t panic about what to get him. He hits up the Disney Store and gets Bryce a little Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal. After consideration, he also grabs a mug with Eeyore looking downright pathetic while getting rained on, because it is awesome, and if Jared’s drinking coffee or tea at Bryce’s from now on, that Eeyore cup is totally his. Mornings suck. Pathetic Eeyore can channel his morning woes.

He also hits up the grocery store for some ingredients for dinner, because Bryce appreciated it last year, and Jared doesn’t want like, _all_ his presents to involve trolling Bryce. Though the Winnie the Pooh’s pretty cute, honestly. Jared was never the kind of kid who was big on stuffed animals — his main toys of choice were legos and those immobile hockey figurines he’d try and fail to use as action figures — but as stuffed animals go, it’s a good one.

He throws some cake mix and frosting in his basket alongside dinner stuff, because he’s not a great baker or anything, but he can manage to follow directions that simple, and if he does cupcakes he can leave the extra at home for his family. No way him and Bryce will be able to finish a cake between themselves, not with that nutritional info — or lack thereof — blaring at him from the back of the box.

The cupcakes have been finished and frosted for _maybe_ an hour before like, half of the stock is missing. Nice. Really nice. Jared suspects Erin just grabbed a half dozen and ran. He puts the best six in the fridge for tomorrow with a note threatening dire consequences if they should go missing. He really only needs two, but it’s better to be safe than sorry with these people.

Four of the six survive until the next day (how is Erin eating _this many_ cupcakes?), and Jared shows up to Bryce’s before he’s out of training, putting Winnie on the couch to wait for Bryce, then getting dinner started. It’s nothing too fancy, but he’s decided to branch out a bit from what he did last year. It’s still a riff on chicken and veg — dinner of champions and dudes who are training — but he’s got a solid enough grip on what Bryce likes by now, so he can get more creative with the flavour profile.

Dammit, Jared has clearly watched too many of those cooking shows with Erin over the years. 

Bryce comes in just when Jared’s sticking the chicken in the oven, all handsy, hugging him from behind. “What’re you making?”

“Dinner,” Jared says. “Your present’s on the couch.”

“My present’s not dinner?” Bryce asks.

“Dinner’s dinner,” Jared says. “Go grab your present.”

Bryce comes back with an indignant expression and Winnie the Pooh carefully cradled in his arms. There are mixed signals going on here.

“You got me Winnie the Pooh?” Bryce says. “Seriously?”

“He’s cute!” Jared says. “Look at the lil guy.”

“This better not lead to another sex joke,” Bryce says, squeezing the stuffed animal tighter. “Stop ruining Winnie.”

“On a first name basis with your buddy, huh?” Jared asks.

Bryce scowls.

“Oh hey,” Jared says. “That face kind of reminds me of my other present for you.”

The gloomy Eeyore mug does not alleviate the Bryce scowl.

“Dibs on it, by the way,” Jared says. “Like, this is my mug now. Jared’s grumpy morning mug.”

He leaves it way open for Bryce to chirp him for getting himself something and claiming it’s for Bryce, but he just looks kind of thoughtful, then says, “Deal.”

“I forgot to say happy birthday, didn’t I?” Jared asks.

“I mean, you gave me presents, so,” Bryce says. “I was pretty sure you didn’t forget it was my birthday?”

Jared totally forgot to _say_ happy birthday, though.

“I am a human disaster,” Jared says. “Happy birthday.”

“You do okay,” Bryce says. “Even if you decided to like, troll me with my presents.”

Jared cannot argue, because that is exactly what he did. “I’m also making you dinner?” he says. “And there are cupcakes. Plus I’m cleared to stay over tonight.”

“See?” Bryce says. “You do pretty good, actually.”

“I _guess_ ,” Jared says, and lets Bryce pull him away from the kitchen and steer him to the couch.

Jared checks on the food a few times, though it’s kind of hard, because Bryce keeps holding onto him and refusing to let him go, all — Jared would say clingy, but it’s not that different from Bryce usually? Just a little more. Whatever, it’s his birthday and Jared doesn’t mind it, though he absolutely will if Bryce makes him burn the chicken.

The chicken comes out blessedly unburnt, and the vegetables are a tiny bit overcooked, but not to the point where they’re not tasty, or at least he hopes not. Still, Bryce is picking at his dinner like he practically never does — he usually inhales the stuff, which makes sense considering the amount of calories he has to cram in a day, and all of it with lean damn food — and Jared takes a careful bite of everything, noting how it tastes, before putting his fork down.

“Is it too salty or something?” Jared asks. “Not salty enough?” It tastes good to him, but tastebuds aren’t interchangeable or anything. Maybe his are broken? 

“No, it’s good,” Bryce says. “It’s really good.”

“Okay,” Jared says doubtfully.

“I, um,” Bryce says. “It is good. I just — I have something to ask you? And like, I need you to um. It’s kind of a big thing?”

“Okay,” Jared says, and when Bryce doesn’t say anything, “I can’t like, read your mind, dude, you do actually have to ask out loud.”

“Yeah,” Bryce says. “You know how like—”

He stops again. 

“Really can’t read your mind, Bryce,” Jared says. “And you’re kind of freaking me out now. You’re not like, dumping me on your birthday?”

“Dumping — are you serious right now?” Bryce asks. “ _Dumping you_?” 

“I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re not, but I don’t like —” Jared says. “I dunno.”

“I’m kind of asking the opposite?” Bryce says.

“The opposite of dumping is asking me out, and we’re definitely well past that,” Jared says.

“Okay, not the _exact_ opposite, but like,” Bryce says. “Like, a step…forward, I guess?”

“Oh shit, you’re not like, a promise ring sort of dude are you?” Jared asks.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Bryce asks.

“I’m really not, I’m so confused right now,” Jared says.

“I want you to move in with me,” Bryce says. “Um. If you want to. If you don’t, obviously like, I don’t want to push you or anything.”

“Oh,” Jared says blankly, then, “ _Oh_ ,” as that hits him all at once. He’s had an open invitation to come whenever he wants, whether Bryce is there or not, for ages now, but that’s different than this would be, waking up beside Bryce, falling asleep with him at night. And all the in betweens, when they’re both there. Which — may not be the case, soon.

The yes is on the edge of his tongue before he bites it back, because it’s one thing, letting Bryce like, pay for dinner all the time, and get him presents, but it’s a completely different thing to basically live off his generosity like some kind of fucking — sugar baby or something.

“I—” Jared says.

“It’s okay,” Bryce says quietly.

“I’m not saying no, I’m just,” Jared says. “I can’t pay rent or really help with like, bills, or—”

“I don’t care,” Bryce says. 

“I do, though,” Jared says. “I care, okay?”

“So you help in other ways, then,” Bryce says. “Like, you make dinner sometimes, or—”

“Are you asking me to move in for my cooking skills?” Jared asks. “Bring your boyfriend in to save you from delivery?”

“I _can_ cook,” Bryce mutters, which is a suspicious statement Jared doesn’t believe even a little. Or, no, to be fair, Bryce probably _could_ cook if he tried, but he has shown about zero interest in or inclination towards actually doing so, and Jared doubts that’s changing any time soon.

“Cooking dinner sometimes isn’t exactly the same as paying the rent, Bryce,” Jared says.

“Do you pay rent at your parents’?” Bryce says.

“No, but before you say anything, that’s totally different,” Jared says. “They’re my parents. They’re kind of obligated to take care of me.”

“Not now that you’re an adult,” Bryce points out. “And I might not be like, obligated, but I want to, okay? You’re acting like this is me offering to do you a favour or something, when I’d do literally anything to know that when I was coming home, you’d be there, especially since like — I dunno how long that’s going to last. I don’t know if you’re going to be in Edmonton in a month, and I just — I want you here. And I can’t really control if you’re leaving town, but when you’re in town I want you to be with me, you know?”

“Okay,” Jared says.

“Yeah?” Bryce asks.

“I mean, I kind of have to like…not ask my parents, I guess, but clear it with them, but yeah,” Jared says.

“Okay,” Bryce says, then, practically beaming, “Okay.”

Jared kind of hates to take that away from him, but his mind’s racing now, and he’s kind of worried Bryce didn’t actually think this through. Not the wanting to live with Jared thing? He’s sure he has thought about that. But —

“I really don’t want to like, bring up a sore spot,” Jared says. “But you know it’s going to like — what if people find out I’m living with you and like, ask why? Because that’s kind of a risk we’d be taking with this.”

“I don’t care,” Bryce says immediately.

“Yes, you do,” Jared says.

“Okay, I do,” Bryce says. “But I care about this more, you know?”

“So if someone finds out I’m living with you, and connects the dots—”

“I mean, I hope they don’t,” Bryce says, and Jared tries — and fails — not to flinch, “but if they do, we deal with it.”

“I feel like you’re saying that without like, really meaning it,” Jared says. “Because if someone does find out, you’re not going to be cool with—”

“I told my agent,” Bryce says.

“What?” Jared asks.

“About us,” Bryce says. “I told him a couple days ago. He’s the first person I’ve told. I mean, other than my mom, obviously. In case it does get out. My mom said he needed to know.”

“Yeah,” Jared says. His own agent was told Jared was gay before they even signed the papers, because Jared didn’t want an agent who wasn’t comfortable with that, since Jared wouldn’t have been comfortable with _him_ in that case. Knows he has a boyfriend, and that he’s serious about him, though not who, because Jared figured Bryce wouldn’t be cool with that. “Did you tell him it was me specifically, or another hockey player, or just—”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with that,” Bryce says. “So I didn’t say more than I had to, pretty much.”

“You should probably tell him everything,” Jared says, “Like, especially if I go up to the Oilers. And our agents should probably talk to each other if we’re doing this.”

“Are we?” Bryce says. “Doing this?”

“I still have to talk to my parents,” Jared says. “But if you’re serious about this—”

“You know I’m serious about like, everything to do with you,” Bryce says. “You have to know by now. I’ve been serious about you since you still hated my guts, basically.”

“I never hated your guts,” Jared says. 

Bryce gives him a sceptical look.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I was just like, sublimating my massive boner for you, so,” Jared says. “Also you _were_ being a douche. I was upset at my lack of taste.”

“Hey,” Bryce says.

“I’ve revised my opinion,” Jared says. “Reluctantly.”

“Never mind, I don’t want you to move in at all,” Bryce says.

“Yes you do,” Jared says.

“I really, really do,” Bryce says without even a second’s hesitation. He is the opposite of chill, and Jared is — it’s hard not to let it get to his head, to sometimes start to believe he might be everything Bryce seems to think he is. He tries to be, at least.

“So like — we’re doing this, huh?” Jared says.

“If you want to?” Bryce says. “There’s pretty much nothing that’d make me happier, so.”

“I mean, it makes for a pretty good birthday present,” Jared says, then, in belated realisation, “Did you just — outdo my presents for you by making sure you got a better present for yourself?” 

“I can’t outdo your presents if my present is literally _you_ ,” Bryce says. “And you’re like, the best present ever.”

“Oh, gross,” Jared says. “That was so gross. You’re so gross.”

Bryce frowns.

“I can’t believe I’m going to move in with someone _this_ gross,” Jared says.

Bryce frowns deeper. It’s verging on a pout. It is extremely annoying how good a pout looks on him, all, ‘look how sad I am and how much you want to kiss that expression off my face’.

Jared does exactly that, because like, it’s pretty well established that he has zero impulse control where Bryce is concerned.

*

They have to reheat dinner, in the end, and they eat it and the cupcakes in bed, which is a terrible idea, because crumbs. So many crumbs. It’s all cute and romantic right up until they’re _everywhere_ , you sweep them onto the floor, and then there are crumbs on the _floor_ , which is also a problem, so you have to go find the broom, and Bryce gives you a blank look when you ask where it is and says ‘might be…housekeeping closet? Maybe?’

Maybe Jared _can_ earn his keep. Someone should know where their damn broom is. What does Bryce do if he spills something like, the day after his cleaner comes, leave it alone for a week?

Jared says all that, then again, louder, when Bryce returns with a broom but minus a dust pan, looking at him totally blankly when Jared asks where it is, and Jared has to hunt for the elusive closet to find it for him.

“I refuse to believe you’re twenty-two,” Jared calls from the hall. “I refuse to believe someone reached the age of twenty-two without learning how to sweep properly.”

“Regretting agreeing to move in with me yet?” Bryce calls back, and because it’s Bryce’s birthday, and the dust pan was found quickly, and Jared…doesn’t, like at all, he does not indulge in a snide comment. There is time for that later. Bryce can have all the snide Jared he wants, and then probably more than that.

“Not regretting it,” Jared says, when he returns with the dust pan. “But you’re learning how to fucking sweep like a grown-up right now.”

Bryce groans, but he dutifully sweeps up the crumbs under Jared’s watchful eye.

“See?” Bryce says. “We’re good at this already.”

“You have a very low standard of good at this,” Jared says, then, “You have to _put the broom away_ ,” when Bryce, clearly thinking his job is finished, decides to tackle him onto the bed.


End file.
